Friday, November 30, 2007
NoNaNoWriMo, NoNaBloPoMo
I didn't do either this year. And that's fine. You know what I did instead? I made a quilt for upcoming baby. I read a couple books and some magazines. I cooked. I got plenty of sleep. I didn't stress. I spent time with my family for Thanksgiving. It was good. And now November is over and I don't regret my decision at all. There you have it.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sooo... I'm six months pregnant!
Holy shit, huh? Everyone has said they can't believe it's gone this quickly, and I agree. I mean, I still have 4 months to go (that whole 9 months thing is a damnable lie -- it's 40 weeks total), so it's not like she's coming tomorrow, you know? But still.. half a year has passed!
My body image has improved even as my belly has expanded. I'm just happy my body seems to know what it's doing. I was talking to my deli gals at Corti Brothers today, and as I walked away I overheard them say "She looks great." I feel like I look great, too. And, well, it doesn't hurt that nothing much is expanding other than my belly. I'm so glad I haven't gained a second ass or anything. I like my first one. (I'm probably jinxing myself for the next trimester, aren't I? I'm gonna grow ginormous booty.)
That's about it. I need to go drink water and brush my teeth. Good night!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Music and pregnancy (unrelated)
I don't have much to say, so I'll talk about music and pregnancy, two things that are foremost in my mind.
I finally copied a bunch of music that Sweetie's friend sent on DVDs from the UK. I don't have room for a ton of stuff, but I did grab a few things. I got several songs by Nick Drake, some things here and there that I'd heard were good but didn't know much about, and some old stuff that I happened not to have, like a few Hendrix songs and two Led Zeppelin albums. Is Led Zeppelin II like a perfect album or what?
On the bad front, there's a new song by Kid Rock that makes me want to hurt someone. When it begins, it sounds as though it's stolen from Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," and as it continues, it becomes obvious that it's stolen from Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's supposed to be a tribute, but it's a wholesale ripoff. I just hate it.
On pregnancy, there are just two funny things to note, and they're both about connections. First, this whole thing is... not to be cliche, but it's fucking miraculous. I mean, it's just amazing. I'm growing a PERSON, right? Anyway, anywhere I go that I see other moms, I think it's just remarkable that we've been through the same thing. They've found out they were pregnant, felt the baby kick, maybe seen an ultrasound, heard the heartbeat. All this stuff that's just BLOWING MY MIND, and all these other women have gone through it, too. Isn't that neat?
And second, I generally don't think of myself as crazy (eccentric, sure), and I don't believe in new-age woo-woo stuff. But it's hard not to think that Peapod and I have a connection. Like, I sing and talk out loud to her, but I also talk to her internally, and I feel like she can hear me. She'll kick, and I'll think "What'cha doing, there, pumpkin?" I know I can't really think at her, but it feels like I can.
Okay, that is all.
I finally copied a bunch of music that Sweetie's friend sent on DVDs from the UK. I don't have room for a ton of stuff, but I did grab a few things. I got several songs by Nick Drake, some things here and there that I'd heard were good but didn't know much about, and some old stuff that I happened not to have, like a few Hendrix songs and two Led Zeppelin albums. Is Led Zeppelin II like a perfect album or what?
On the bad front, there's a new song by Kid Rock that makes me want to hurt someone. When it begins, it sounds as though it's stolen from Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," and as it continues, it becomes obvious that it's stolen from Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's supposed to be a tribute, but it's a wholesale ripoff. I just hate it.
On pregnancy, there are just two funny things to note, and they're both about connections. First, this whole thing is... not to be cliche, but it's fucking miraculous. I mean, it's just amazing. I'm growing a PERSON, right? Anyway, anywhere I go that I see other moms, I think it's just remarkable that we've been through the same thing. They've found out they were pregnant, felt the baby kick, maybe seen an ultrasound, heard the heartbeat. All this stuff that's just BLOWING MY MIND, and all these other women have gone through it, too. Isn't that neat?
And second, I generally don't think of myself as crazy (eccentric, sure), and I don't believe in new-age woo-woo stuff. But it's hard not to think that Peapod and I have a connection. Like, I sing and talk out loud to her, but I also talk to her internally, and I feel like she can hear me. She'll kick, and I'll think "What'cha doing, there, pumpkin?" I know I can't really think at her, but it feels like I can.
Okay, that is all.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Yesterday was a really great day
Sweetie and I got up and walked to 33rd Street Bistro for breakfast. I love going out for breakfast, and that's one of my favorite places to go. It was a nice crisp morning (okay, Sweetie would say it was freezing) and a good walk.
At home again, I read the paper and fooled around on the internet, then packed my bag and went to Tupelo to do some grading. Okay, it wasn't the highlight of my day, but I got it done pretty quickly, and it's some papers I've been procrastinating on (would YOU want to read 45 ill-written biographies of Tupac Shakur?), so I was glad to get it done. And I had a latte. I also went to the maternity shop next door and they were having a huge sale. I bought a wine-colored velvety top that'll be good for the holidays, and it was $20. On the receipt, it was all "You saved $57." So... cool.
Then it was home again for a nap, and then I went off to the gym and swam a few laps, then sat with my feet in the hot tub and read. Then I picked up sushi and brought it home, where we ate it with relish (well, with pickled ginger).
At a little after 8, I decided to call my mom to see if my cousin had progressed in her labor, and my timing was impeccable: Mom had just gotten off the phone with my aunt, and my new cousin was born about 15 minutes prior. Welcome to the world, little Grant! I hope it treats you well.
At home again, I read the paper and fooled around on the internet, then packed my bag and went to Tupelo to do some grading. Okay, it wasn't the highlight of my day, but I got it done pretty quickly, and it's some papers I've been procrastinating on (would YOU want to read 45 ill-written biographies of Tupac Shakur?), so I was glad to get it done. And I had a latte. I also went to the maternity shop next door and they were having a huge sale. I bought a wine-colored velvety top that'll be good for the holidays, and it was $20. On the receipt, it was all "You saved $57." So... cool.
Then it was home again for a nap, and then I went off to the gym and swam a few laps, then sat with my feet in the hot tub and read. Then I picked up sushi and brought it home, where we ate it with relish (well, with pickled ginger).
At a little after 8, I decided to call my mom to see if my cousin had progressed in her labor, and my timing was impeccable: Mom had just gotten off the phone with my aunt, and my new cousin was born about 15 minutes prior. Welcome to the world, little Grant! I hope it treats you well.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving and the Who-a-thon
Yesterday was nice. I woke up early and read the paper, ate breakfast, and was generally lazy until it was time to make cranberries, then had a nap, a shower, and we went to my uncle's.
I haven't seen my dad at my uncle's house in about 4 years, and I thought he'd just stopped going, actually. But it turns out that we were both going every other year, and just were on the wrong track, you know? So I got to see my dad and all my uncles and aunts (and all but a few of my cousins), plus my Grandma. We had a nice dinner (okay, truth -- there wasn't much I could eat, but later I had a slice of lemon merengue pie as big as my head). And we had Nerf wars, which are becoming a tradition. My husband and cousins all run around and shoot each other with Nerf guns while my grandmother and aunt go "Hey, not around the breakables/kids/pregnant woman/etc! You put that down right now!" And they use people's middle names and get thoroughly ignored. I may have shot a round or two myself. Good times. My uncle followed us to the car with a deep-fried turkey to take home (he makes like 6 every year), and then Sweetie carved it so we'd have room for it all in the fridge. I stayed in the kitchen with him in solidarity, but WOW is the sound of cartilage tearing disturbing.
Today we got up and did little, then at 9 or so, called Monkeygirl to see if she was coming over (she was), and then Sweetie walked to Corti Brothers while I walked to Trader Joe's. Our mission was to get a variety of junk food for today's Dr. Who marathon. Mission accomplished. We had brie, gouda, English cheddar, Irish cheddar, stilton with craberries, two kinds of crackers, three kinds of breadsticks, two par-cooked baguettes, tortilla chips, two kinds of salsa, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, hummus, pita chips, roasted red pepper spread, honey mustard chips, pretzels, toffee cookies, ginger snaps, Italian "pizetta" chocolate cookies, Ghiradelli chocolate, hot cocoa, sugar-free Torani syrup (toffee), soft red licorice, caramel corn, cashews, chili-lemon pistachios, tequila-lime pistachios, orange-honey almonds, garlic-stuffed olives, garlic flavored olives... I think that might be it. In retrospect, we probably could have made it with just ONE of us going shopping at just one store.
Then we had a fire (I had to go back out for matches, whoops) and watched two whole... what would you call a Dr. Who storyline? Is it a whole season? Anyway, we gorged ourselves on cheese and baguette, then watched "City of Death" and "The Beast of Fang Rock." I liked "City of Death" best, because there was actually a good deal of humor (intentional and un-), and a cameo by John Cleese. Next to John Cleese in the very brief scene was an actress I recognized, but neither MG or Sweetie did. I waited for the credits and saw that she was Eleanor Bron. So why do I recognize her? Because she was the leading lady (and double agent!) in the Beatles movie "Help."
Finally Monkeygirl needed a nap and Sweetie needed some exercise, so we called an official end to the Dr. Who-a-thon. I watched another episode of Deadwood (and I think Mr. Woolcott is the same actor who played the hooplehead who killed Wild Bill Hickock. Yes, I'm three years behind the rest of the world.)
And now Sweetie's home and we're trying to decide whether we're hungry enough for some healthy broccoli or something. Sounds like broccoli and brown rice it is. Whew.
I haven't seen my dad at my uncle's house in about 4 years, and I thought he'd just stopped going, actually. But it turns out that we were both going every other year, and just were on the wrong track, you know? So I got to see my dad and all my uncles and aunts (and all but a few of my cousins), plus my Grandma. We had a nice dinner (okay, truth -- there wasn't much I could eat, but later I had a slice of lemon merengue pie as big as my head). And we had Nerf wars, which are becoming a tradition. My husband and cousins all run around and shoot each other with Nerf guns while my grandmother and aunt go "Hey, not around the breakables/kids/pregnant woman/etc! You put that down right now!" And they use people's middle names and get thoroughly ignored. I may have shot a round or two myself. Good times. My uncle followed us to the car with a deep-fried turkey to take home (he makes like 6 every year), and then Sweetie carved it so we'd have room for it all in the fridge. I stayed in the kitchen with him in solidarity, but WOW is the sound of cartilage tearing disturbing.
Today we got up and did little, then at 9 or so, called Monkeygirl to see if she was coming over (she was), and then Sweetie walked to Corti Brothers while I walked to Trader Joe's. Our mission was to get a variety of junk food for today's Dr. Who marathon. Mission accomplished. We had brie, gouda, English cheddar, Irish cheddar, stilton with craberries, two kinds of crackers, three kinds of breadsticks, two par-cooked baguettes, tortilla chips, two kinds of salsa, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, hummus, pita chips, roasted red pepper spread, honey mustard chips, pretzels, toffee cookies, ginger snaps, Italian "pizetta" chocolate cookies, Ghiradelli chocolate, hot cocoa, sugar-free Torani syrup (toffee), soft red licorice, caramel corn, cashews, chili-lemon pistachios, tequila-lime pistachios, orange-honey almonds, garlic-stuffed olives, garlic flavored olives... I think that might be it. In retrospect, we probably could have made it with just ONE of us going shopping at just one store.
Then we had a fire (I had to go back out for matches, whoops) and watched two whole... what would you call a Dr. Who storyline? Is it a whole season? Anyway, we gorged ourselves on cheese and baguette, then watched "City of Death" and "The Beast of Fang Rock." I liked "City of Death" best, because there was actually a good deal of humor (intentional and un-), and a cameo by John Cleese. Next to John Cleese in the very brief scene was an actress I recognized, but neither MG or Sweetie did. I waited for the credits and saw that she was Eleanor Bron. So why do I recognize her? Because she was the leading lady (and double agent!) in the Beatles movie "Help."
Finally Monkeygirl needed a nap and Sweetie needed some exercise, so we called an official end to the Dr. Who-a-thon. I watched another episode of Deadwood (and I think Mr. Woolcott is the same actor who played the hooplehead who killed Wild Bill Hickock. Yes, I'm three years behind the rest of the world.)
And now Sweetie's home and we're trying to decide whether we're hungry enough for some healthy broccoli or something. Sounds like broccoli and brown rice it is. Whew.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Giving thanks
2006 Thanksgiving post
2005 Thanksgiving on the road.
2004 Thanksgiving.
Well, I have so much to give thanks for I think I'd overwhelm you. But here's a sampling:
The biggest one this year, by far, is this pregnancy. I feel so lucky and grateful. As always, I am thankful for my wonderful husband, my family (including my family in Oregon and Washington, who we miss desperately this year), my friends, my home, my job, my cat, my health, my friends' and family's health, and the general good fortune that I feel surrounded by pretty much all the time. Even in the worst times, I often feel like I live a charmed life. How could one person be so lucky? I guess I need to give a big shout out to past-life-me.
It's not time for a year-end wrap up, but I am also thankful for the good fortune of my friends and family. One friend has had a real mix of ups and downs this year, but it's starting to go more up than down, and I'm very happy for that. Another two friends just got married after a long courtship. Another friend lost a cherished aunt, but found her career path in caring for her, and has returned to school where she's kicking ass. Another friend is getting her book published (ranking #97 on Amazon already!). Mom lost a good friend, but I'm thankful for the years they had together and the way she enriched our lives. I'm thankful for the continued health and well-being of our nieces and nephews. Many people in my family have had health issues, but they're becoming much healthier as a result. I will be welcoming a new cousin soon. In short, there's a lot of good stuff going on in the world, and I'm glad the good stuff is happening to good people.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope your lives are as full of joy as mine.
2005 Thanksgiving on the road.
2004 Thanksgiving.
Well, I have so much to give thanks for I think I'd overwhelm you. But here's a sampling:
The biggest one this year, by far, is this pregnancy. I feel so lucky and grateful. As always, I am thankful for my wonderful husband, my family (including my family in Oregon and Washington, who we miss desperately this year), my friends, my home, my job, my cat, my health, my friends' and family's health, and the general good fortune that I feel surrounded by pretty much all the time. Even in the worst times, I often feel like I live a charmed life. How could one person be so lucky? I guess I need to give a big shout out to past-life-me.
It's not time for a year-end wrap up, but I am also thankful for the good fortune of my friends and family. One friend has had a real mix of ups and downs this year, but it's starting to go more up than down, and I'm very happy for that. Another two friends just got married after a long courtship. Another friend lost a cherished aunt, but found her career path in caring for her, and has returned to school where she's kicking ass. Another friend is getting her book published (ranking #97 on Amazon already!). Mom lost a good friend, but I'm thankful for the years they had together and the way she enriched our lives. I'm thankful for the continued health and well-being of our nieces and nephews. Many people in my family have had health issues, but they're becoming much healthier as a result. I will be welcoming a new cousin soon. In short, there's a lot of good stuff going on in the world, and I'm glad the good stuff is happening to good people.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope your lives are as full of joy as mine.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Some reflections on pregnancy
Well, I consider myself lucky to have had a pretty typical pregnancy so far. Nothing has happened to me that didn't have its own heading in the Dr. Sears Pregnancy book. And all of them say something like "nothing to worry about."
That's not to say it's all been sunshine and roses. We tried so hard for so long that I felt really guilty complaining about anything pregnancy-related, and I've only recently given myself permission to complain a bit. I kind of had to -- I'm noticeably limping. My sacroiliac joint has apparently gone on strike, and there are now very few positions I can sit or stand in comfortably.
My first trimester was pretty easy. I was hungry and I was tired. So I carried snacks (as my BlogHer buddies can attest to) and took naps. No biggie. I didn't particularly care for tomatoes or coffee, thank you, and found that cottage cheese was delicious. I think that, short of having NO symptoms, I had it about as easy as it gets. And frankly, even those symptoms were kind of reassuring; I knew that my body was doing what it was supposed to.
Then the second trimester came, and it's been a mixed bag. The fatigue and the hunger went away. I started to show and to feel her move, which is unbelieveably exciting. But then the combo of the extra weight and the joint-loosening hormones jacked up my lower back. And some other small, odd things have happened. Despite not having a moment of nausea in my first trimester, I discovered that my gag-reflex is extra-sensitive, and I puked after choking on some soup. And I NEVER puke. I also got a bloody nose about two days after my pregnancy class educator said that bloody noses were quite common. I've been a bit congested, which is apparently also normal.
And last night, I started to wake up to go to the bathroom, wiggled my feet, and got the most astounding leg cramp I've ever had. I didn't want to wake up Sweetie, so I was internally screaming "OHGODNOOOOOO!! OWWWWWW!" And I couldn't remember what the folk remedies were. And I cursed myself for not eating bananas this week. And I couldn't remember what the Dr. Sears book had said to do. I remembered this much: "Leg cramps during the night are quite common. Your instinct will be to ------------, but that may make it worse. Instead, -----------." One of those blanks was stretching and one was flexing, but I could not remember which was which!* I was thinking "What is my instinct? I don't know!" Instead, I just lay there, screaming internally. It's still quite sore this morning, actually. I have never had a muscle cramp that big or that bad (except once in my back, and I was immobilized).
I also have to wonder just how many holes in my memory there are like that. "When performing the Heimlich maneuver, first --------. Then carefully -------." I mean, come on! That's not all that helpful!
Anyway, altogether it's been a really good experience. I know that all of this is going to result in a beautiful, perfect girl. I'm also giving myself permission to admit that it's not all easy.
I'm reminded of the scene in "The Princess Bride" when the Dread Pirate Roberts (Wesley) and Princess Buttercup are navigating the Fire Swamp.
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
I thought the leg cramps didn't exist, and they do. Oh, how they do. But I'm navigating anyway. Now if only I had a holocaust cloak.
*Incidentally, you're supposed to stretch the muscle by flexing your foot.
That's not to say it's all been sunshine and roses. We tried so hard for so long that I felt really guilty complaining about anything pregnancy-related, and I've only recently given myself permission to complain a bit. I kind of had to -- I'm noticeably limping. My sacroiliac joint has apparently gone on strike, and there are now very few positions I can sit or stand in comfortably.
My first trimester was pretty easy. I was hungry and I was tired. So I carried snacks (as my BlogHer buddies can attest to) and took naps. No biggie. I didn't particularly care for tomatoes or coffee, thank you, and found that cottage cheese was delicious. I think that, short of having NO symptoms, I had it about as easy as it gets. And frankly, even those symptoms were kind of reassuring; I knew that my body was doing what it was supposed to.
Then the second trimester came, and it's been a mixed bag. The fatigue and the hunger went away. I started to show and to feel her move, which is unbelieveably exciting. But then the combo of the extra weight and the joint-loosening hormones jacked up my lower back. And some other small, odd things have happened. Despite not having a moment of nausea in my first trimester, I discovered that my gag-reflex is extra-sensitive, and I puked after choking on some soup. And I NEVER puke. I also got a bloody nose about two days after my pregnancy class educator said that bloody noses were quite common. I've been a bit congested, which is apparently also normal.
And last night, I started to wake up to go to the bathroom, wiggled my feet, and got the most astounding leg cramp I've ever had. I didn't want to wake up Sweetie, so I was internally screaming "OHGODNOOOOOO!! OWWWWWW!" And I couldn't remember what the folk remedies were. And I cursed myself for not eating bananas this week. And I couldn't remember what the Dr. Sears book had said to do. I remembered this much: "Leg cramps during the night are quite common. Your instinct will be to ------------, but that may make it worse. Instead, -----------." One of those blanks was stretching and one was flexing, but I could not remember which was which!* I was thinking "What is my instinct? I don't know!" Instead, I just lay there, screaming internally. It's still quite sore this morning, actually. I have never had a muscle cramp that big or that bad (except once in my back, and I was immobilized).
I also have to wonder just how many holes in my memory there are like that. "When performing the Heimlich maneuver, first --------. Then carefully -------." I mean, come on! That's not all that helpful!
Anyway, altogether it's been a really good experience. I know that all of this is going to result in a beautiful, perfect girl. I'm also giving myself permission to admit that it's not all easy.
I'm reminded of the scene in "The Princess Bride" when the Dread Pirate Roberts (Wesley) and Princess Buttercup are navigating the Fire Swamp.
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
I thought the leg cramps didn't exist, and they do. Oh, how they do. But I'm navigating anyway. Now if only I had a holocaust cloak.
*Incidentally, you're supposed to stretch the muscle by flexing your foot.
Monday, November 19, 2007
"If I didn't do it at all, does that count?"
My students have a very my-homework-is-half-full sort of perspective.
They had a big assignment due today which they've known about quite literally since the first week of school (which is when they were given the calendar of important due dates). Here are two of the conversations I had this morning:
K: If I only got four sources instead of ten, does that count?
Me: So you didn't do your work?
K: No, I did it. I've got four.
Me: But you're supposed to have ten. So you didn't do your work?
K: Well I looked some up on the internet, but they were dead pages.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: If I send you a link to all the books instead of the citations, does that count?
Me: Did you do the citations?
M: Well, no, what I have is links to the books.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: No! I did, I just didn't cite them.
Me: But your assignment was to provide me with citations. So you didn't do your work?
M: No, it's a link -- I can show you. It's a link from the public library.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: Well, would it be better to turn them in late or to just give you the links today?
Me: Today, you haven't done your work. So do it, then turn it in.
For goodness' sake! The assignment is to provide an annotated bibliography. And they think they can send me a link to a public library page on the book? Unbelievable.
They had a big assignment due today which they've known about quite literally since the first week of school (which is when they were given the calendar of important due dates). Here are two of the conversations I had this morning:
K: If I only got four sources instead of ten, does that count?
Me: So you didn't do your work?
K: No, I did it. I've got four.
Me: But you're supposed to have ten. So you didn't do your work?
K: Well I looked some up on the internet, but they were dead pages.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: If I send you a link to all the books instead of the citations, does that count?
Me: Did you do the citations?
M: Well, no, what I have is links to the books.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: No! I did, I just didn't cite them.
Me: But your assignment was to provide me with citations. So you didn't do your work?
M: No, it's a link -- I can show you. It's a link from the public library.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: Well, would it be better to turn them in late or to just give you the links today?
Me: Today, you haven't done your work. So do it, then turn it in.
For goodness' sake! The assignment is to provide an annotated bibliography. And they think they can send me a link to a public library page on the book? Unbelievable.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Oh yeah, and to my anonymous Sacramento buddy (buddies?)
I tend to forget to respond to comments (especially if I get them while at work), but I wanted to say two things:
First, DUDE! How crazy that you found my blog and we live a block apart! How DID you find it, by the way? I'm just curious... I always think of it as being read only by the folks I know, because I just don't consider myself interesting enough to have strangers read about me.
And second, yes, I miss Greta's, too. However, at the time Greta's existed, I was young and poor, so it was a rare treat. I liked the orzo salad and the Asian noodle salad, although I've always liked La Bou's Asian noodle salad better. But if it has broccoli in it, I like it.
Anyway, hi!
First, DUDE! How crazy that you found my blog and we live a block apart! How DID you find it, by the way? I'm just curious... I always think of it as being read only by the folks I know, because I just don't consider myself interesting enough to have strangers read about me.
And second, yes, I miss Greta's, too. However, at the time Greta's existed, I was young and poor, so it was a rare treat. I liked the orzo salad and the Asian noodle salad, although I've always liked La Bou's Asian noodle salad better. But if it has broccoli in it, I like it.
Anyway, hi!
So far, so good (this weekend)
Yesterday I had agreed to chaperone the students' "soiree" after school from 4:30 to 6:30. I wasn't sure how well-organized it was going to be, but it turned out well. They brought a nice variety of food (though four enormous tubs of macaroni salad came in, puzzlingly) and pretty much played charades and pictionary the whole time. Everyone participated and they all seemed to be having a good time. Certainly not the view of inner-city teens you usually get in the media.
This morning I read the paper and played on the internet, then Sweetie and I went to REI to register people for "Run to Feed the Hungry."* I'm good at shit like that. It was just like working retail again in some ways, except that everyone was nice. Oh, and that I was 5 1/2 months pregnant and on my feet for the same number of hours! Incidentally, I mentioned to Sweetie this morning that I really felt cute now that I was noticeably pregnant, not just fat and bloated-looking. I must still look fat, though, because after I took a snack break, the baby started kicking the shit out of me, and I mentioned it to the coordinator lightheartedly (whom I had been working next to for over 4 hours). She was like "What! I didn't know you were pregnant! Diana, did you know she was pregnant?" I still think I look pregnant, because otherwise it's a very strange way to carry my excess weight, but whatever.
* We're not good people or anything, we're just trying to get Sweetie community service hours for work.
Tonight I think we're going out to dinner (no set plans, though) and maybe we'll have a fire and take a photo for the Christmas card. I realize that's ambitious, since I often don't even manage to SEND Christmas cards at all, and now I'm all "yeah, I'm gonna make our own cards!" Well, we'll see. Hot cocoa and more goofing off sounds good, too.
Tomorrow is my family's early Thanksgiving. We often do that, because we're all so fractious and divided on the actual day. Sometimes Sweetie and I go out of town to see his family (we'd really like to have done so this year, but it wasn't in the cards). My cousin is married with kids and has his wife's family to consider. I have my Dad's family, and Mom and Boompah sometimes go to the Delta to be with his family. So we celebrate twice, because we all like to see each other and spend time together. And because my mom seriously makes the BEST Thanksgiving food ever (although my darling Sister-in-law's was damn good, too). I think it's one of those childhood nostalgia things, but I have never had a stuffing I liked as much as Mom's. And as a vegetarian, going to my uncle's is kind of a crapshoot -- the stuffing's been done in the bird, the mashed potatoes sometimes have chicken stock. I get rolls and cranberry stuff (not homemade, like at Mom's) and salad (if it isn't meaty) and whatever else is there. At Mom's, I know I can have everything but the turkey. (Although as a note, Sister-in-law and the rest of Sweetie's family went out of their way to accommodate me, too.) Oh, and at uncle's? Store-bought pie. And those weird sweet potatoes with crap all over them. But the day's not all about the food, and I enjoy spending time with my family, only a few of whom have seen me since I'm knocked up! They're a big sentimental Irish gang, so they'll be excited. (Okay, yet another parenthetical -- they actually DID see me pregnant on 4th of July, but none of us knew that then. Peapod was like, a blastocyst.)
And Monday is Sweetie's birthday! He's the super-best husband in the world, and I don't shout that from the mountaintops nearly often enough. Happy early birthday to the best thing that ever happened to me.
This morning I read the paper and played on the internet, then Sweetie and I went to REI to register people for "Run to Feed the Hungry."* I'm good at shit like that. It was just like working retail again in some ways, except that everyone was nice. Oh, and that I was 5 1/2 months pregnant and on my feet for the same number of hours! Incidentally, I mentioned to Sweetie this morning that I really felt cute now that I was noticeably pregnant, not just fat and bloated-looking. I must still look fat, though, because after I took a snack break, the baby started kicking the shit out of me, and I mentioned it to the coordinator lightheartedly (whom I had been working next to for over 4 hours). She was like "What! I didn't know you were pregnant! Diana, did you know she was pregnant?" I still think I look pregnant, because otherwise it's a very strange way to carry my excess weight, but whatever.
* We're not good people or anything, we're just trying to get Sweetie community service hours for work.
Tonight I think we're going out to dinner (no set plans, though) and maybe we'll have a fire and take a photo for the Christmas card. I realize that's ambitious, since I often don't even manage to SEND Christmas cards at all, and now I'm all "yeah, I'm gonna make our own cards!" Well, we'll see. Hot cocoa and more goofing off sounds good, too.
Tomorrow is my family's early Thanksgiving. We often do that, because we're all so fractious and divided on the actual day. Sometimes Sweetie and I go out of town to see his family (we'd really like to have done so this year, but it wasn't in the cards). My cousin is married with kids and has his wife's family to consider. I have my Dad's family, and Mom and Boompah sometimes go to the Delta to be with his family. So we celebrate twice, because we all like to see each other and spend time together. And because my mom seriously makes the BEST Thanksgiving food ever (although my darling Sister-in-law's was damn good, too). I think it's one of those childhood nostalgia things, but I have never had a stuffing I liked as much as Mom's. And as a vegetarian, going to my uncle's is kind of a crapshoot -- the stuffing's been done in the bird, the mashed potatoes sometimes have chicken stock. I get rolls and cranberry stuff (not homemade, like at Mom's) and salad (if it isn't meaty) and whatever else is there. At Mom's, I know I can have everything but the turkey. (Although as a note, Sister-in-law and the rest of Sweetie's family went out of their way to accommodate me, too.) Oh, and at uncle's? Store-bought pie. And those weird sweet potatoes with crap all over them. But the day's not all about the food, and I enjoy spending time with my family, only a few of whom have seen me since I'm knocked up! They're a big sentimental Irish gang, so they'll be excited. (Okay, yet another parenthetical -- they actually DID see me pregnant on 4th of July, but none of us knew that then. Peapod was like, a blastocyst.)
And Monday is Sweetie's birthday! He's the super-best husband in the world, and I don't shout that from the mountaintops nearly often enough. Happy early birthday to the best thing that ever happened to me.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
What are we going to do tonight, Brain?
The only acceptable answer to this is "The same thing we do every night, Pinky -- try to take over the world."*
This morning I got an e-mail with that subject line. It was a half-joking congratulatory message to a co-worker who got a nice write-up in the paper. It indicated that said co-worker was trying to take over the world. It made me laugh. Several other people hit "reply all" to add their congratulations.
And then the jerk-o who suckered me into teaching Huck Finn to his special ed class last month sent a reply to all saying something like "Hey, if you're going to send an e-mail to just one person, don't CC the whole rest of the staff."
Well, at first I thought maybe he just thought the congratulations should be kept on the down low (why?), but then I realized he hadn't read it at all. In fact, he had e-mailed the entire staff (irony, anyone?) and instead of replying, had RE-TYPED the subject line. How do I know? Because he spelled it "Brian."
* It is a reference to the cartoon "Animaniacs," and particularly the characters Pinky and the Brain.
This morning I got an e-mail with that subject line. It was a half-joking congratulatory message to a co-worker who got a nice write-up in the paper. It indicated that said co-worker was trying to take over the world. It made me laugh. Several other people hit "reply all" to add their congratulations.
And then the jerk-o who suckered me into teaching Huck Finn to his special ed class last month sent a reply to all saying something like "Hey, if you're going to send an e-mail to just one person, don't CC the whole rest of the staff."
Well, at first I thought maybe he just thought the congratulations should be kept on the down low (why?), but then I realized he hadn't read it at all. In fact, he had e-mailed the entire staff (irony, anyone?) and instead of replying, had RE-TYPED the subject line. How do I know? Because he spelled it "Brian."
* It is a reference to the cartoon "Animaniacs," and particularly the characters Pinky and the Brain.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Having an Amish day.
That's right: I made soup, baked bread, read my book, and quilted.
It was nice, although not all of my day went smoothly. My yeast was dead the first time around, and I couldn't find all the ingredients for my soup at the first store I went to. I walked around the corner to the Save Mart, but two of the self-checky things were down and one of the remaining two seemed to be occupied by one of those egg-obsessives detailed in "Clerks." So anyway, when I realized my bread was really, really not going to work, I went to another store.
I thought I had gotten the egg noodles I wanted at Safeway before (although later Sweetie told me he knew I had gotten them at Raley's. Anyway, I also need a new navel ring, since my belly is popping out like the Thanksgiving turkey thermometer and I don't want TWO ugly scars (I'll be happy to tell you the story of how I got the other one when we tell drunk stories sometime). I went to the piercing shop that's a few blocks from the Safeway, but no one was in, so they referred me to another shop downtown. Fine, I thought. I had plenty of time, and what I wanted would only take a couple minutes. But when I got there, the guy running the shop was busy. The customer he was with took only a minute, and there was one more pair in front of me, so I really thought it wouldn't be long. But the customers in front of me were... high needs. I was there for 40 minutes before he helped me. Ugh.
And then I went to Safeway and they didn't have what I wanted. So that outing sucked.
But then I came home and worked on my quilt a bit and made fat noodle soup (with only somewhat inferior fettuccine noodles (Sweetie didn't seem to mind -- he had three bowls). I got the pita bread going, and it's now out of the oven. I am 3/4 done hand-tying my quilt*. I am half-watching "Fever Pitch," which is an okay movie, but has nothing in common with the book.
Yesterday Mom and I saw "Dan in Real Life," which I really enjoyed. I have to say that I am a woman under the influence of powerful hormones, but I cried more than once. It was very touching. I love Steve Carrel in more serious roles (well, I love him in comedy, too), and I thought we was very convincing as a widower torn between loyalty to his brother and a chance at real love. It was sweet.
*Okay, here's the deal on the quilt: I'll show you when I'm done. It's not going to be very good, because it's my first one. It's not full-sized; it's baby-sized. But recently Sweetie asked if I could do something with 3 old Tintin shirts that he didn't wear, but wasn't ready to part with. As it happened, I had 6 Alice shirts I'd made the same decision about a few years ago. Three plus six is nine, which makes a square. So I figured I'd try to make a t-shirt quilt. I have to do the last of the tying, then put the binding on. I think it'll be cute, although like I said, no great work of skill.
It was nice, although not all of my day went smoothly. My yeast was dead the first time around, and I couldn't find all the ingredients for my soup at the first store I went to. I walked around the corner to the Save Mart, but two of the self-checky things were down and one of the remaining two seemed to be occupied by one of those egg-obsessives detailed in "Clerks." So anyway, when I realized my bread was really, really not going to work, I went to another store.
I thought I had gotten the egg noodles I wanted at Safeway before (although later Sweetie told me he knew I had gotten them at Raley's. Anyway, I also need a new navel ring, since my belly is popping out like the Thanksgiving turkey thermometer and I don't want TWO ugly scars (I'll be happy to tell you the story of how I got the other one when we tell drunk stories sometime). I went to the piercing shop that's a few blocks from the Safeway, but no one was in, so they referred me to another shop downtown. Fine, I thought. I had plenty of time, and what I wanted would only take a couple minutes. But when I got there, the guy running the shop was busy. The customer he was with took only a minute, and there was one more pair in front of me, so I really thought it wouldn't be long. But the customers in front of me were... high needs. I was there for 40 minutes before he helped me. Ugh.
And then I went to Safeway and they didn't have what I wanted. So that outing sucked.
But then I came home and worked on my quilt a bit and made fat noodle soup (with only somewhat inferior fettuccine noodles (Sweetie didn't seem to mind -- he had three bowls). I got the pita bread going, and it's now out of the oven. I am 3/4 done hand-tying my quilt*. I am half-watching "Fever Pitch," which is an okay movie, but has nothing in common with the book.
Yesterday Mom and I saw "Dan in Real Life," which I really enjoyed. I have to say that I am a woman under the influence of powerful hormones, but I cried more than once. It was very touching. I love Steve Carrel in more serious roles (well, I love him in comedy, too), and I thought we was very convincing as a widower torn between loyalty to his brother and a chance at real love. It was sweet.
*Okay, here's the deal on the quilt: I'll show you when I'm done. It's not going to be very good, because it's my first one. It's not full-sized; it's baby-sized. But recently Sweetie asked if I could do something with 3 old Tintin shirts that he didn't wear, but wasn't ready to part with. As it happened, I had 6 Alice shirts I'd made the same decision about a few years ago. Three plus six is nine, which makes a square. So I figured I'd try to make a t-shirt quilt. I have to do the last of the tying, then put the binding on. I think it'll be cute, although like I said, no great work of skill.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Pink & registries, miso, art, rice and greetings!
Yesterday I used a coupon a friend sent me to register at Target for baby stuff (the coupon gave me a $10 gift card if I started the registry in November). I have two things to say about that experience.
First, Who am I? Where is my mind? I swear, up until two weeks ago when we found out the sex, I was all "I want everything gender-neutral, I want greens and yellows and nothing too girly and nothing changes when we find out the sex." And about 4 seconds after I actually found out we were having a girl, it became "OHMYGODLOOKATTHELITTLEPINKSLEEPER! And these socks will make her little girly feeties look just like FLOOOOWERS!" Yeah, I don't know what happened to my brain, other than to postulate that perhaps the extra estrogen is affecting me.
Second, I realize that registries are traditional and appropriate and within the boundaries of good etiquette, but they still make me feel squicky. Not when other people have them, mind you; then I'm delighted to have gift ideas. But to make one myself? It feels like saying "Hey, look, I can procreate -- now buy me stuff!" I mean, the whole point of us breeding at this stage in our lives is that we can afford our own Diaper Genie, you know? I want people to be happy for us and share in our joy and pet my belly if they want and hold the baby and all that stuff, but I don't like presenting a list of demands. So, dear friends, those of you who read this, when you get your shower invitation, just remember that I'm happy just to have you in my life.
In another sort-of pregnancy related note, I really, really wanted miso soup last night when we went to sushi. So I had some. And then I felt really ambivalent about it. See, I'm a vegetarian and miso soup has dried fish flakes in it. I actually did not know that for years, and drank it unrepentantly. Then when I found out, I stopped ordering it. But last night I wanted some, and I had some, and I really don't care. Which feels odd. I think I'd care if I'd had a piece of chicken or something. What is my brain telling me -- that it was okay because it was a small amount? Because fish aren't particularly sentient? Because maybe baby wanted it? I just don't know. Am I a pescatarian now?
After sushi, Monkeygirl, Sweetie and I went back to the house and decided that MG and I would go to Second Saturday. It was raining, which had pros and cons. First, we knew it wouldn't be as crowded as usual, but then of course WE'D get wet and cold. And even though I said "well, I have an umbrella!" I failed to actually take it with us. So we totally got soaked. But we also saw some really great art this time. I really liked the ceramics in the Solomon Dubnick gallery, and there's this one gallery we've been to several times on 21st street, and every time we've been there I've enjoyed the art. There were a couple really neat paintings, some cool glass pieces, and a tapestry I liked. My favorites there, though, were small paintings of local places -- Joe Marty's, the Crest, the Blue Diamond plant, Foster's Bighorn, etc. I don't really buy art, because we already have a surfeit of art for our available wall space, but there are always things I *like* and would buy if I had the money and the space.
As we walked back to the car, I almost took a nasty spill. I had galoshes on (shut up), and there was a slight puddle. I stepped in it and found that it was a puddle because there was a divot in the asphalt filled with slimy leaves and motor oil. I felt my other foot come out from under me and hover at about a 90 degree angle in front of me as I waved my arms wildly in circles. I saw two parking attendants and MG staring on in horror as I finally regained my balance.
To end our evening, we went to True Love and I got a Tom's Cherry Hot Chocolate (divine) and MG got a perfectly layered latte. We sat outside on the covered patio. It was quiet and there was classic rock playing. The only bummer was that people were smoking copiously all around us. Blech. Why do people still bother? It's expensive and smelly. Young people! Do not take up this filthy habit. I'm telling you, you'll regret it. Someday you'll look at a picture of yourself, smoking and bowlegged in your skinny jeans, and you will think what a tool you were.
By the way, if you want to feed the hungry (in very small amounts) and test your vocabulary, go to Freerice.com I found it addictive, so watch out.
Finally, I wanted to say hi to the couple of extra readers I seem to have picked up. This is a scattered, mostly pointless "life blog" (as I learned at the BlogHer conference), but I like it. I hope you do, too. I always get a little giddy when I get a comment, so thank you! Welcome aboard.
First, Who am I? Where is my mind? I swear, up until two weeks ago when we found out the sex, I was all "I want everything gender-neutral, I want greens and yellows and nothing too girly and nothing changes when we find out the sex." And about 4 seconds after I actually found out we were having a girl, it became "OHMYGODLOOKATTHELITTLEPINKSLEEPER! And these socks will make her little girly feeties look just like FLOOOOWERS!" Yeah, I don't know what happened to my brain, other than to postulate that perhaps the extra estrogen is affecting me.
Second, I realize that registries are traditional and appropriate and within the boundaries of good etiquette, but they still make me feel squicky. Not when other people have them, mind you; then I'm delighted to have gift ideas. But to make one myself? It feels like saying "Hey, look, I can procreate -- now buy me stuff!" I mean, the whole point of us breeding at this stage in our lives is that we can afford our own Diaper Genie, you know? I want people to be happy for us and share in our joy and pet my belly if they want and hold the baby and all that stuff, but I don't like presenting a list of demands. So, dear friends, those of you who read this, when you get your shower invitation, just remember that I'm happy just to have you in my life.
In another sort-of pregnancy related note, I really, really wanted miso soup last night when we went to sushi. So I had some. And then I felt really ambivalent about it. See, I'm a vegetarian and miso soup has dried fish flakes in it. I actually did not know that for years, and drank it unrepentantly. Then when I found out, I stopped ordering it. But last night I wanted some, and I had some, and I really don't care. Which feels odd. I think I'd care if I'd had a piece of chicken or something. What is my brain telling me -- that it was okay because it was a small amount? Because fish aren't particularly sentient? Because maybe baby wanted it? I just don't know. Am I a pescatarian now?
After sushi, Monkeygirl, Sweetie and I went back to the house and decided that MG and I would go to Second Saturday. It was raining, which had pros and cons. First, we knew it wouldn't be as crowded as usual, but then of course WE'D get wet and cold. And even though I said "well, I have an umbrella!" I failed to actually take it with us. So we totally got soaked. But we also saw some really great art this time. I really liked the ceramics in the Solomon Dubnick gallery, and there's this one gallery we've been to several times on 21st street, and every time we've been there I've enjoyed the art. There were a couple really neat paintings, some cool glass pieces, and a tapestry I liked. My favorites there, though, were small paintings of local places -- Joe Marty's, the Crest, the Blue Diamond plant, Foster's Bighorn, etc. I don't really buy art, because we already have a surfeit of art for our available wall space, but there are always things I *like* and would buy if I had the money and the space.
As we walked back to the car, I almost took a nasty spill. I had galoshes on (shut up), and there was a slight puddle. I stepped in it and found that it was a puddle because there was a divot in the asphalt filled with slimy leaves and motor oil. I felt my other foot come out from under me and hover at about a 90 degree angle in front of me as I waved my arms wildly in circles. I saw two parking attendants and MG staring on in horror as I finally regained my balance.
To end our evening, we went to True Love and I got a Tom's Cherry Hot Chocolate (divine) and MG got a perfectly layered latte. We sat outside on the covered patio. It was quiet and there was classic rock playing. The only bummer was that people were smoking copiously all around us. Blech. Why do people still bother? It's expensive and smelly. Young people! Do not take up this filthy habit. I'm telling you, you'll regret it. Someday you'll look at a picture of yourself, smoking and bowlegged in your skinny jeans, and you will think what a tool you were.
By the way, if you want to feed the hungry (in very small amounts) and test your vocabulary, go to Freerice.com I found it addictive, so watch out.
Finally, I wanted to say hi to the couple of extra readers I seem to have picked up. This is a scattered, mostly pointless "life blog" (as I learned at the BlogHer conference), but I like it. I hope you do, too. I always get a little giddy when I get a comment, so thank you! Welcome aboard.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
My own personal witness protection program.
Allow me to set the scene. I am on my couch in the living room with the blinds in the wide front windows open for some sunlight. I'm on the computer, I have massive bedhead, I am wearing Paul Frank monkey pajama pants (that are a size too small, so my ass crack shows), and I am also wearing a "CUSS: Campaign for Unshaved Snatch" t-shirt.
Suddenly I see movement from the corner of my eye. There are about 20 nicely-dressed people walking down my street. Two of them are coming up my walkway. I can spot an "Awake" pamphlet from ten yards. As they climb my front steps, I make a snap decision. That's right, I run. In plain view of the street, my inadequately monkey-covered five-month-pregnant ass ran for the hallway and ducked out of sight.
My darling husband, laughing at me (but also staying carefully out of sight) tells me that they almost certainly saw me, but nevertheless won't so much as crack the bedroom blinds to get a better look and see if they've gone yet.
Ah, Saturday mornings and good times.
Suddenly I see movement from the corner of my eye. There are about 20 nicely-dressed people walking down my street. Two of them are coming up my walkway. I can spot an "Awake" pamphlet from ten yards. As they climb my front steps, I make a snap decision. That's right, I run. In plain view of the street, my inadequately monkey-covered five-month-pregnant ass ran for the hallway and ducked out of sight.
My darling husband, laughing at me (but also staying carefully out of sight) tells me that they almost certainly saw me, but nevertheless won't so much as crack the bedroom blinds to get a better look and see if they've gone yet.
Ah, Saturday mornings and good times.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Playing the pregnancy card
I haven't done it much. I stood in a long line for the bathroom on Saturday and didn't even stick out my tummy. But I used it today.
We went to a meeting after school. The VP giving the meeting is discipline guy, and he looks for TOTAL compliance, which is cool, and it works. Of course, I didn't realize it was going to mean no food in the meeting, so I packed my peanuts. Hey, the meeting was from 3:30 to 4:30, I knew I wouldn't be home until after 5, and lunch is at 12:30. I was hungry! I quietly got my bag open and got a handful of nuts. I was right on the aisle, so he saw me and said "Please put the food away." If I hadn't been so hungry, I might've just said sorry and let it go, but instead I said "You're going to deny the pregnant woman her afternoon snack?" He looked momentarily flustered, then said "Oh, no, go ahead." The other VP leaned over and said "That's called 'accommodations.'" Everyone laughed, and at the end of the meeting one guy was like "That's cold, playing the pregnancy card." I said "I was hungry! But don't you feel even worse now for using the ladies' room?" (He happened to come out as I was waiting for it right before the meeting.)
We went to a meeting after school. The VP giving the meeting is discipline guy, and he looks for TOTAL compliance, which is cool, and it works. Of course, I didn't realize it was going to mean no food in the meeting, so I packed my peanuts. Hey, the meeting was from 3:30 to 4:30, I knew I wouldn't be home until after 5, and lunch is at 12:30. I was hungry! I quietly got my bag open and got a handful of nuts. I was right on the aisle, so he saw me and said "Please put the food away." If I hadn't been so hungry, I might've just said sorry and let it go, but instead I said "You're going to deny the pregnant woman her afternoon snack?" He looked momentarily flustered, then said "Oh, no, go ahead." The other VP leaned over and said "That's called 'accommodations.'" Everyone laughed, and at the end of the meeting one guy was like "That's cold, playing the pregnancy card." I said "I was hungry! But don't you feel even worse now for using the ladies' room?" (He happened to come out as I was waiting for it right before the meeting.)
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Some things I miss about my hometown
You read that right. I know I never LEFT my hometown, but it's changed a lot since I was a kid.
Edokko One. This Japanese restaurant at 5th and Broadway, across the street from the projects, had absolutely miraculous service. I SWEAR that they used to come ask me what I wanted, I'd say "Tenpura veggies and rice," and they'd walk ten feet to the door of the kitchen and return with my meal. Piping hot and fresh. I don't know how they did it. They mostly sold udon, from what I remember, but as a veggie, the tenpura was pretty much all I ever had. It was also insanely cheap. I know I got out of there for less than $5 (or I wouldn't have gone so often while making minimum wage). It was a total greasy spoon, but I've never found a decent replacement. When another Edokko opened further down Broadway a few years ago, I tried it, but it was more like a restaurant, with cloth napkins. And their sunomono came with fish flakes on it. Bleh.
The OLD Capitol Garage. It may surprise you to learn that I miss a sheet-metal-walled coffee shop best known for the collection of goths and punks that sat outside smoking cloves at all hours, but I do. They had the greatest shows, decent food at reasonable prices (but, like, coffee shop food -- bagels and such)... The new one is all Capitol workers and $8 grilled cheese. I miss the punks, I miss the shows, I miss the crazy artwork. I miss the chalked-up bathroom doors. I miss its grungy, not yuppie, self.
How Tacky. Can you still purchase chattering teeth and punching nuns, quirky jewelry, pornographic greeting cards, and unusual wrapping paper in Sacramento? Sure... but not all in one place.
Good Earth. A healthy restaurant with a huge variety of vegetarian selections. Will we ever see its kind again? Sunflower is more like a drive-in, and it's far away. Andy Nguyen is all Asian (and kind of spendy). Mums has closed. There's just nothing like it, and I miss it.
Cafe Melange. When I lived nearby, I spent many a weekend morning eating a cinnamon roll or a baked apple fritter and sitting in the rocking chair, at the big communal table, or upstairs looking out over 24th street and the lower level of the cafe. Now it's a Crepeville. Because apparently what Sacramento needs is more crepes. Monkeygirl, I expect you to leave a comment about the lattes.
New Helvetia. This is a bit of a cheat, since Cafe Melange used to be New Helvetia South, so I'm sort of mourning the same place twice. But not really. New Hel's more central location meant it was a lively place to spend an afternoon, either in the rocking chair (if I could grab it) or out on the patio. I used to get a Titanic-sized iced chai and read the paper or a book. I never saw the place anywhere close to empty. At any hour of the day, people from the gay kids roaming Lavender Heights to my old French teacher would be taking up tables. And their coffee drinks were fabulous. I rarely got their ice cream concoctions, because I was always watching my weight, but I assure you that they were exceptional.
Punk island (on the old K street mall). I don't think the Downtown Plaza is worse than the old K street. I'm smart enough to know that the new enclosed mall has better occupancy rates than the old mall, but I do miss the strange concrete animal sculptures and the waterways that ran up and down the mall. When I was a teen, we used to hang out on the owl. Thus, punk island.
Tower (records, video, and books at 16th and Broadway). I worked there, and admittedly I had some hard feelings about the management, but there was no place cooler for retail shopping. The bookstore was cramped and crowded and had no place for a cafe or overstuffed chairs, but it had the most well-read employees of any bookstore I know. You could see a movie at Tower theatre, get dinner at Tower Cafe, browse the records and books, rent a movie, and then maybe go to Tower Liquor for some booze, and you had yourself a weekend. It was also usually great people-watching.
Profound Sound. The ONLY music store downtown, and one of the few independently owned music stores in the area. By music store, I mean instruments and such. I now have a choice of Guitar Center or Skip's (locally owned, but far away). I know I don't need to spend money on music stuff, but I loved browsing Profound Sound and talking to the employees.
Cafe Montreal. I saw Cake there (more than once). I went there on the evening of Junior Prom. I saw my first open mic poetry reading there. It's since changed hands (and names) about ten times, but it's never had the elan that Cafe Montreal had.
Oh, I'm sure there are more, but I've been drafting this for a long time, so I'm going to give up now. Things change, we roll with the changes. There are things here now that I would miss if they were gone, and there will be places that open in the future that I will be fond of, I'm sure. I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight.
Edokko One. This Japanese restaurant at 5th and Broadway, across the street from the projects, had absolutely miraculous service. I SWEAR that they used to come ask me what I wanted, I'd say "Tenpura veggies and rice," and they'd walk ten feet to the door of the kitchen and return with my meal. Piping hot and fresh. I don't know how they did it. They mostly sold udon, from what I remember, but as a veggie, the tenpura was pretty much all I ever had. It was also insanely cheap. I know I got out of there for less than $5 (or I wouldn't have gone so often while making minimum wage). It was a total greasy spoon, but I've never found a decent replacement. When another Edokko opened further down Broadway a few years ago, I tried it, but it was more like a restaurant, with cloth napkins. And their sunomono came with fish flakes on it. Bleh.
The OLD Capitol Garage. It may surprise you to learn that I miss a sheet-metal-walled coffee shop best known for the collection of goths and punks that sat outside smoking cloves at all hours, but I do. They had the greatest shows, decent food at reasonable prices (but, like, coffee shop food -- bagels and such)... The new one is all Capitol workers and $8 grilled cheese. I miss the punks, I miss the shows, I miss the crazy artwork. I miss the chalked-up bathroom doors. I miss its grungy, not yuppie, self.
How Tacky. Can you still purchase chattering teeth and punching nuns, quirky jewelry, pornographic greeting cards, and unusual wrapping paper in Sacramento? Sure... but not all in one place.
Good Earth. A healthy restaurant with a huge variety of vegetarian selections. Will we ever see its kind again? Sunflower is more like a drive-in, and it's far away. Andy Nguyen is all Asian (and kind of spendy). Mums has closed. There's just nothing like it, and I miss it.
Cafe Melange. When I lived nearby, I spent many a weekend morning eating a cinnamon roll or a baked apple fritter and sitting in the rocking chair, at the big communal table, or upstairs looking out over 24th street and the lower level of the cafe. Now it's a Crepeville. Because apparently what Sacramento needs is more crepes. Monkeygirl, I expect you to leave a comment about the lattes.
New Helvetia. This is a bit of a cheat, since Cafe Melange used to be New Helvetia South, so I'm sort of mourning the same place twice. But not really. New Hel's more central location meant it was a lively place to spend an afternoon, either in the rocking chair (if I could grab it) or out on the patio. I used to get a Titanic-sized iced chai and read the paper or a book. I never saw the place anywhere close to empty. At any hour of the day, people from the gay kids roaming Lavender Heights to my old French teacher would be taking up tables. And their coffee drinks were fabulous. I rarely got their ice cream concoctions, because I was always watching my weight, but I assure you that they were exceptional.
Punk island (on the old K street mall). I don't think the Downtown Plaza is worse than the old K street. I'm smart enough to know that the new enclosed mall has better occupancy rates than the old mall, but I do miss the strange concrete animal sculptures and the waterways that ran up and down the mall. When I was a teen, we used to hang out on the owl. Thus, punk island.
Tower (records, video, and books at 16th and Broadway). I worked there, and admittedly I had some hard feelings about the management, but there was no place cooler for retail shopping. The bookstore was cramped and crowded and had no place for a cafe or overstuffed chairs, but it had the most well-read employees of any bookstore I know. You could see a movie at Tower theatre, get dinner at Tower Cafe, browse the records and books, rent a movie, and then maybe go to Tower Liquor for some booze, and you had yourself a weekend. It was also usually great people-watching.
Profound Sound. The ONLY music store downtown, and one of the few independently owned music stores in the area. By music store, I mean instruments and such. I now have a choice of Guitar Center or Skip's (locally owned, but far away). I know I don't need to spend money on music stuff, but I loved browsing Profound Sound and talking to the employees.
Cafe Montreal. I saw Cake there (more than once). I went there on the evening of Junior Prom. I saw my first open mic poetry reading there. It's since changed hands (and names) about ten times, but it's never had the elan that Cafe Montreal had.
Oh, I'm sure there are more, but I've been drafting this for a long time, so I'm going to give up now. Things change, we roll with the changes. There are things here now that I would miss if they were gone, and there will be places that open in the future that I will be fond of, I'm sure. I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
You have made my list, hall monitor with the eyebrow ring!
Oh yes, that's right, my shit list is activated. I went on my prep period to make copies, and I usually use the bathroom that's off the copy room. As it happens, though, there was a really talkative cafeteria worker in there, so I beat feet and went to the office.
I had some papers to pick up, and on the way stopped by the office bathroom. It was in use, so I picked up my papers and went back. Still in use.
I headed back toward my classroom and the bathroom nearest it. It was in use. There are only two other staff bathrooms on campus, both much farther away, so I waited. And waited. And waited. At one point I considered leaving and going to one of the farther-away bathrooms, but I sort of felt like I had so much time invested waiting there that I might as well continue waiting and see who came out.
I had been standing right by the door, and people were periodically coming by and making conversation, so I thought if I retreated a bit, they might find it safe to come out. I backed off and sat on a planter.
Finally, after about ten minutes (and after I'd read all the paperwork I picked up from the office), a hall monitor wanders out of the bathroom TALKING ON THE PHONE. Yep. As though it was her personal lounge, rather than one of the five female bathrooms for a staff of almost 160 people.
I looked right at her (of course, she wasn't paying attention because she was ON THE PHONE), and went for the door. Seriously, these aren't bathrooms with a couple stalls and a couch in the waiting area -- these are just a WC in a big tile room. And I need to use them! Grrrrr.
I had some papers to pick up, and on the way stopped by the office bathroom. It was in use, so I picked up my papers and went back. Still in use.
I headed back toward my classroom and the bathroom nearest it. It was in use. There are only two other staff bathrooms on campus, both much farther away, so I waited. And waited. And waited. At one point I considered leaving and going to one of the farther-away bathrooms, but I sort of felt like I had so much time invested waiting there that I might as well continue waiting and see who came out.
I had been standing right by the door, and people were periodically coming by and making conversation, so I thought if I retreated a bit, they might find it safe to come out. I backed off and sat on a planter.
Finally, after about ten minutes (and after I'd read all the paperwork I picked up from the office), a hall monitor wanders out of the bathroom TALKING ON THE PHONE. Yep. As though it was her personal lounge, rather than one of the five female bathrooms for a staff of almost 160 people.
I looked right at her (of course, she wasn't paying attention because she was ON THE PHONE), and went for the door. Seriously, these aren't bathrooms with a couple stalls and a couch in the waiting area -- these are just a WC in a big tile room. And I need to use them! Grrrrr.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
The best-laid plans
Yeah, I had big plans today. I was going to go to yoga, come home and shower and eat lunch, then go to the fabric store and buy some interfacing for one project I'm planning and some fabrics for another project, and then go to the coffee shop and write some postcards, then have dinner with mom.
Instead, I went to yoga, came home and ate lunch, took a LOOONG nap, played on the computer, took a shower, and went to dinner with mom. I also got groceries. But seriously, how lame is that? I shouldn't even have been that tired because we had the extra hour last night!
Yesterday was a ton of fun. Mom and I drove to Apple Hill, a collection of orchards about an hour from here. We sometimes go to more than one, but this time we spent the whole day at High Hill Ranch (which is pretty much my favorite one anyway). They have produce and gourmet goodies for sale (I got my favorite hot sauce, as well as 3 kinds of apples and fresh juice), pies (I got one for last night), caramel apples (yeah, I had one of those, too), a duck pond with fishing, a fudge factory, pony rides, face painting, hot food, crafts... It's good, old-fashioned fun. We met some mom friends of mine from an online forum and their kids, so I got to hold babies! One of them brought me a TON of clothes her little girl had outgrown without getting to wear and a cool vibrating chair thing.
Oh, it was also good people-watching: Mom spotted a guy who looked like Hitler. She thought it was the mustache, but his mustache was actually wider than Hitler's, so I was trying to figure out what else gave that impression, and it was the haircut. He had Hitler hair, too. There was also a skinny guy with long blond hair in a Utilikilt. And speaking of odd sights, this morning I saw two clowns on the front porch of the Relles mansion (a really fancy house in East Sacramento). Clowns. Wigs, big shoes, everything. One of them was smoking a cigarette. They amused me less than they creeped me out.
There was also a horrible bitch that I decided not to tell off because we were having such a nice day. I had to ask Mom today whether I'd been mistaken in my impression, and Mom agreed that she was rotten. We were all in line for food, and at that point there were four adult women and four children. Well, she seemed to think we were welfare-abusing super-breeders or something. She kept making comments like "Oh, is it dads' day off?" and "Gee, you sure have a handful there." But in a snide, bitchy way. I just decided not to say anything because my friend who had three of the kids didn't seem to hear, and I certainly didn't want to give this whore any more attention than she deserved.
Then last night we had poker night! I'm hopeless at poker, but we always have fun with Sweetie's co-workers. We brought Monkeygirl, too, and we all had a good time. I even didn't lose too badly. Sweetie got tired at the end and sat out a few hands and pushed some of his chips at me, so I don't know exactly how much I ended up betting vs. how much I had at the end, but I suspect I just about broke even. We were there until just about midnight! Of course, last night was the end of daylight savings, so we got the extra hour later, but I was still pooped today. Know what got neglected? The laundry, which even now the cat is attempting to get hair on every inch of. Sigh. I'll see if I can get it all folded before bed.
Instead, I went to yoga, came home and ate lunch, took a LOOONG nap, played on the computer, took a shower, and went to dinner with mom. I also got groceries. But seriously, how lame is that? I shouldn't even have been that tired because we had the extra hour last night!
Yesterday was a ton of fun. Mom and I drove to Apple Hill, a collection of orchards about an hour from here. We sometimes go to more than one, but this time we spent the whole day at High Hill Ranch (which is pretty much my favorite one anyway). They have produce and gourmet goodies for sale (I got my favorite hot sauce, as well as 3 kinds of apples and fresh juice), pies (I got one for last night), caramel apples (yeah, I had one of those, too), a duck pond with fishing, a fudge factory, pony rides, face painting, hot food, crafts... It's good, old-fashioned fun. We met some mom friends of mine from an online forum and their kids, so I got to hold babies! One of them brought me a TON of clothes her little girl had outgrown without getting to wear and a cool vibrating chair thing.
Oh, it was also good people-watching: Mom spotted a guy who looked like Hitler. She thought it was the mustache, but his mustache was actually wider than Hitler's, so I was trying to figure out what else gave that impression, and it was the haircut. He had Hitler hair, too. There was also a skinny guy with long blond hair in a Utilikilt. And speaking of odd sights, this morning I saw two clowns on the front porch of the Relles mansion (a really fancy house in East Sacramento). Clowns. Wigs, big shoes, everything. One of them was smoking a cigarette. They amused me less than they creeped me out.
There was also a horrible bitch that I decided not to tell off because we were having such a nice day. I had to ask Mom today whether I'd been mistaken in my impression, and Mom agreed that she was rotten. We were all in line for food, and at that point there were four adult women and four children. Well, she seemed to think we were welfare-abusing super-breeders or something. She kept making comments like "Oh, is it dads' day off?" and "Gee, you sure have a handful there." But in a snide, bitchy way. I just decided not to say anything because my friend who had three of the kids didn't seem to hear, and I certainly didn't want to give this whore any more attention than she deserved.
Then last night we had poker night! I'm hopeless at poker, but we always have fun with Sweetie's co-workers. We brought Monkeygirl, too, and we all had a good time. I even didn't lose too badly. Sweetie got tired at the end and sat out a few hands and pushed some of his chips at me, so I don't know exactly how much I ended up betting vs. how much I had at the end, but I suspect I just about broke even. We were there until just about midnight! Of course, last night was the end of daylight savings, so we got the extra hour later, but I was still pooped today. Know what got neglected? The laundry, which even now the cat is attempting to get hair on every inch of. Sigh. I'll see if I can get it all folded before bed.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Great Grandma York's recipes
Before I moved out of the house when I was a young adult, I copied many of my Great-Grandma York's recipes from my mom's cookbooks. I had a small cookbook of my own and copied them into it. Two of them, my favorites, I think, are applesauce cake and oatmeal cake. I don't make them all that often, but when I do, they are comforting and make the house smell all homey (not to mention cinnamony).
We've been reading "Like Water for Chocolate" in my IB class, and today was a shortened day, so I told the kids they could have a pot luck. There was just one catch: because we were reading a book with an emphasis on family recipes handed down over generations, they had to bring a family recipe. I made both cakes to bring. I changed them up a little -- Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs, whole wheat flour instead of white -- but they were good. But as I looked at the recipes, I thought to myself "Why didn't great grandma York have any recipes for chocolate? Sheesh, couldn't they get chocolate in Boone, Iowa in the early 20th century?" And then I realized, well, maybe not. Chocolate wasn't really popular in the U.S. until after WWII, from what I remember reading about it. Huh. How times change.
Speaking of chocolate, a horrible travesty was committed in the name of chocolate. I bought a bag of "Autumn Mix" leftover candy corn stuff at Target this evening. I wanted plain candy corn (I really like eating the colors separately and nibbling off the little white tips), but there was none. There were cocoa flavored ones and caramel flavored ones and Autumn Mix, which has the little pumpkins in it. The pumpkins are a distant second to the corn, but are at least a mallowcreme flavored mallowcreme. But what is the corn in my Autumn Mix?? It's the cocoa flavored kind! YUCK! It's a damn shame -- a horrific crime against both chocolate and mallowcreme. Bah!
We've been reading "Like Water for Chocolate" in my IB class, and today was a shortened day, so I told the kids they could have a pot luck. There was just one catch: because we were reading a book with an emphasis on family recipes handed down over generations, they had to bring a family recipe. I made both cakes to bring. I changed them up a little -- Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs, whole wheat flour instead of white -- but they were good. But as I looked at the recipes, I thought to myself "Why didn't great grandma York have any recipes for chocolate? Sheesh, couldn't they get chocolate in Boone, Iowa in the early 20th century?" And then I realized, well, maybe not. Chocolate wasn't really popular in the U.S. until after WWII, from what I remember reading about it. Huh. How times change.
Speaking of chocolate, a horrible travesty was committed in the name of chocolate. I bought a bag of "Autumn Mix" leftover candy corn stuff at Target this evening. I wanted plain candy corn (I really like eating the colors separately and nibbling off the little white tips), but there was none. There were cocoa flavored ones and caramel flavored ones and Autumn Mix, which has the little pumpkins in it. The pumpkins are a distant second to the corn, but are at least a mallowcreme flavored mallowcreme. But what is the corn in my Autumn Mix?? It's the cocoa flavored kind! YUCK! It's a damn shame -- a horrific crime against both chocolate and mallowcreme. Bah!
Freaky dreams
Man, I was warned that pregnancy dreams are strange, but it's no lie! I have strange dreams every night and don't always feel the need to record them, but last night's was noteworthy.
At first, I went to San Francisco to go shoe shopping, and fell in love with a red plaid wedge (sorry guys, I know this means nothing to you) but was really looking for a dressy sneaker. I went upstairs where they had more shoes and also some clothing, and on my way, I noticed my three stuffed animals, the Lankee Cats. What were they doing here on their own? I wondered. But I soon found out -- although Sweetie told me he didn't want to come to S.F., he changed his mind after I left and took the Greyhound down and was shopping in the very same store. I was happy to see him and continued my shopping, where I found a fabulous Betsey Johnson maternity dress in black velvet -- a knee-length a-line with a swatch of pink and antique lace on the bodice. It was only $65, so I was going to buy it and wear it at the holidays. Um... anyway.
Then I was going down the street with a teenage girl, and we were discussing why she couldn't rely on her mom. Her mom was never on time for anything. As we were talking, we were navigating the "street coaster," a roller coaster that took place on the streets of the city. You went over buses, above sidewalks, through some buildings. At the point in which we were supposed to be deposited into her mom's car, we were dumped unceremoniously on the sidewalk instead. Because her mom was late.
Then Sweetie and I were living in a large brick apartment building. It was a nice enough place, but there were some problems. For example, the staircases had 2 foot ceilings, so we had to crouch and crawl to get from the parking lot to our place. Also, when you were in the bathroom, you could see the parking garage very well (and they could see you) because there was a vent cover missing. And finally, it was a sort of communal living place, so you had to have consensus on everything with the other people in the building. We even had to agree to precisely what time it was, or we would "lose our time privileges."
At first, I went to San Francisco to go shoe shopping, and fell in love with a red plaid wedge (sorry guys, I know this means nothing to you) but was really looking for a dressy sneaker. I went upstairs where they had more shoes and also some clothing, and on my way, I noticed my three stuffed animals, the Lankee Cats. What were they doing here on their own? I wondered. But I soon found out -- although Sweetie told me he didn't want to come to S.F., he changed his mind after I left and took the Greyhound down and was shopping in the very same store. I was happy to see him and continued my shopping, where I found a fabulous Betsey Johnson maternity dress in black velvet -- a knee-length a-line with a swatch of pink and antique lace on the bodice. It was only $65, so I was going to buy it and wear it at the holidays. Um... anyway.
Then I was going down the street with a teenage girl, and we were discussing why she couldn't rely on her mom. Her mom was never on time for anything. As we were talking, we were navigating the "street coaster," a roller coaster that took place on the streets of the city. You went over buses, above sidewalks, through some buildings. At the point in which we were supposed to be deposited into her mom's car, we were dumped unceremoniously on the sidewalk instead. Because her mom was late.
Then Sweetie and I were living in a large brick apartment building. It was a nice enough place, but there were some problems. For example, the staircases had 2 foot ceilings, so we had to crouch and crawl to get from the parking lot to our place. Also, when you were in the bathroom, you could see the parking garage very well (and they could see you) because there was a vent cover missing. And finally, it was a sort of communal living place, so you had to have consensus on everything with the other people in the building. We even had to agree to precisely what time it was, or we would "lose our time privileges."
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Trick or Treating and a mysterious, energetic dog
Well, last night was a bit disappointing. I hurried home from ballet so I could be there right around 7, and I had... wait for it... 3 trick-or-treaters. I knew it would probably be slow as soon as I turned onto my street. My little street, which is not really a through street, was PITCH BLACK. About three people on the entire street had porch lights on. Even the street lights seemed dim. I thought to myself, "Well, I hope someone is willing to venture 3/4 of the way down this dark street to get my candy" but I knew it was probably fruitless. On the bright side (or is it?), I have a ton of candy left. And I got Reese's, Snickers, and Almond Joy.
This morning, Sweetie and I stepped outside and saw at the same time that my jack'o'lantern (that I purchased and carved 5 days ago!) had rotted off its perch and left a yucky pumpkin mess on the driveway. Which reminded me that I hadn't taken the garbage and recycling to the street for pick-up day. As we set about getting the garbage and recycling done, a dog ran across the street out of nowhere, straight into the garage, and right at me.
Now, let me preface this by saying that I don't dislike dogs, but I am not really a dog person, and as someone who's been attacked by dogs twice (pretty well mauled once) and charged once, I'm a little unnerved when strange dogs run at me. I yelled "Shoo. SHOO!" and then banged the recycling bin down between me and the dog. He paused, and in that pause Sweetie whistled, so he turned around and ran at Sweetie. It became quickly apparent that we wasn't attacking, he just really, really wanted to play and hang out with us. In fact, he almost followed me into the house at one point. Sweetie kept calling him back. At one point I heard him say "Oh, thank you," and turned to see that the dog had "fetched" an old shoe that was in the garage. In order for me to get out of the garage, Sweetie had to clap and say "Come on! Come on!" and start running down the street, whereupon the dog went happily running after him.
I am still not sure where the dog came from. One of my neighbors was out by her car loading stuff into it, but she didn't seem particularly interested in the whereabouts of the dog, so I don't think it was hers.
This morning, Sweetie and I stepped outside and saw at the same time that my jack'o'lantern (that I purchased and carved 5 days ago!) had rotted off its perch and left a yucky pumpkin mess on the driveway. Which reminded me that I hadn't taken the garbage and recycling to the street for pick-up day. As we set about getting the garbage and recycling done, a dog ran across the street out of nowhere, straight into the garage, and right at me.
Now, let me preface this by saying that I don't dislike dogs, but I am not really a dog person, and as someone who's been attacked by dogs twice (pretty well mauled once) and charged once, I'm a little unnerved when strange dogs run at me. I yelled "Shoo. SHOO!" and then banged the recycling bin down between me and the dog. He paused, and in that pause Sweetie whistled, so he turned around and ran at Sweetie. It became quickly apparent that we wasn't attacking, he just really, really wanted to play and hang out with us. In fact, he almost followed me into the house at one point. Sweetie kept calling him back. At one point I heard him say "Oh, thank you," and turned to see that the dog had "fetched" an old shoe that was in the garage. In order for me to get out of the garage, Sweetie had to clap and say "Come on! Come on!" and start running down the street, whereupon the dog went happily running after him.
I am still not sure where the dog came from. One of my neighbors was out by her car loading stuff into it, but she didn't seem particularly interested in the whereabouts of the dog, so I don't think it was hers.
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